


Curfew, Kid

by Deko_Ni



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: AU, Avengers Family, Hurt/Comfort, It never happened, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Other, Peter Parker - Freeform, Stark Tower, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Superfamily (Marvel), references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-28 16:52:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deko_Ni/pseuds/Deko_Ni
Summary: He dialed the number. It began to ring and in the meantime Peter took a moment to get his bearings straight.When he did get picked up, he knew he wouldn't be able to explain much to Tony. He was going to be so grounded once they got back to the tower.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place in celebration of the release of Spiderman homecoming!  
> Congrats on the fantastic reviews!
> 
> Anyhow, this takes place somewhere around the homecoming timeline, except Civil war doesn't exist.  
> Didn't exist.  
> Just want my Superfamily to be happy.
> 
> Disclaimer: It all belongs to the fantastic mind that is Stan Lee, not mine but I wish.

Peter Parker sat up in bed, mind too muddled to go back to sleep. He'd woken from yet another nightmare. It was the same one that played in his head every night; the one that sent shivers all along his spine and all the way to his toes.

Aunt May was always there. She'd be at home making dinner as usual. And every time, Peter suspected that the atmosphere felt off, that his Spidey Sense should be going off at any moment.

But it never would.

By the time he was situated, felt the most open- because his aunt was the one person he felt safest around- that was when the world crashed down around him.

It didn't go out with a bang or a sudden flash of light like all the movies predicted, but with a single cry of his name. It would ring for what seemed like hours, torment him to the very core.

And that was when he woke up. Crying as per usual. He'd be red in the face and drenched in possibly sweat or even the copious amounts of tears flooding through him.

He never knew what the source of the salty water was that covered him each night, but he did know how gut wrenchingly horrific his mind had to be to repeat such an image. Every night. Every time he closed his eyes.

Peter glanced over at the digital clock silently ticking on his bedside table. Its obnoxiously unique Spiderman theme song announcing it had just turned 3:00 am. He knew he'd never get back to sleep. It was like this every night for the past week. Waking up in the middle of the night after the constant nightmares and unable to get back to bed afterwards.

As silently as he could, he pulled himself up and out of bed, not before having to tussle with the blankets wrapped tightly around him first, though.

He was currently sleeping on the eleventh floor of Stark tower and the main living area was right below him. Stark and a few of the other Avengers mentioned having preferred the tower more than their facility. Considering the Avengers facility was located in the more urban area of New York, most of them would rather stay close to the bustling city. Though, one issue was keeping away from the media, news reporters, fans and cosplayers that were more than likely to recognize them if they went out with no disguises.

Though Peter speculated it had more to do with him than anything. Since his aunt's death, he couldn't find it in himself to get further from where she was buried than he had to. No matter how morbid it sounded, he couldn't bring himself to leave both his aunt and uncle six feet under without visiting them where they lay. Not only would the facility's location hinder his visits to their graves, but it would be difficult keeping up as Spiderman. What was he supposed to swing on in order to make it back to Manhattan? Trees? He'd rather be as close as possible to the people of New York for their sake more than his own. He still had a job to do no matter how many times the Avengers willed him to take a break.

With his hightened agility and the fact that no one else could possibly be awake, it'd be a much simpler task to exit the building without an Avenger waiting to stop him.

He'd been restricted from late night patrol and therefore abided by a curfew no later than 12:00. Only if they were still awake however.

With the tower being silent as Death- Deadpool had mentioned it being just as quiet before- he took the opportunity and climbed out his window. F.R.I.D.A.Y. thankfully had nothing to say.

The night was cold, a remnant of the day's passing rain still sitting on the breeze. If Peter were to say his Spiderman costume- the one he'd put on just as he climbed out of bed- wasn't warm, he'd be lying. Mr. Stark was sure to fix that. On top of a hundred other things.

576 web-shooter combinations, automatic thermal heating and cooling, straightforward communication to F.R.I.D.A.Y., and a few other things that not even Peter was entirely sure about. He was sure that Tony cared for him immensely after upgrading his suit so much. Not that the engineer would ever admit it.

It was nice out, for once. The city lights glittered in a calming sort of way. Considering it was the middle of the night, New York was, for once, relatively quiet.

Peter was glad for the silence. If there weren't any crimes he'd have to put an end to, then great. He really wasn't up to fist fighting anyone in the dead of night. He was more than exhausted and after a few swings around the city, he planned to head back to the tower and get what little sleep he could.

He couldn't help the urge to swing around the city with only the sounds of distant cars and glittering lights flashing through his vision. The city was absolutely gorgeous and he promised to take advantage of it for just this night.

He'd only taken a moment to think atop a nearby building before he was off. His muscles taught beneath his suit as he heaved himself from rooftop to rooftop, the breeze making him lighter than he'd ever felt.

He wasn't sure how far he was from STARK tower, but couldn't care less. It was the happiest he'd been in a long time.

"Whoo! I love you New York!" He finished, grinning from ear to ear.

Nothing could put a damper on his spirit at the moment. Well, there were a few things, but he wouldn't think about them. There were a few things he'd learned while living with the Avengers.

One, remembering at least 200 of the combinations of his web shooters. Two, not to hide Clint's bow. And three, "take each moment in stride". He'd learned that from Steve who was still several years behind in the times and had no clue how to use a computer yet.

Take a deep breath and forget everything else. Whatever was causing negative emotions, he needed to do something that would distract it from resurfacing. Swinging around New York on Spider webs was one of Peter's best distractions.

It had taken Steve years to perfect...well, somewhat perfect. Peter didn't have years before he was somewhat sane again. His only option was this, going out in the middle of the night everytime his brain played 'duck, duck, goose' and doing what a spider does. Climbing walls, spinning webs, and punching bad guys.

Taking a deep breath, he dropped by a construction sight that gave him a view of the city from above. Up high and far from sound.

"FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Peter?" The AI responded.

"No one in the tower's realized I've gone have they?"

"No, they have not. Would you like me to inform them of where you are if they do?"

Peter thought a moment, his breath finally evening out around the calm atmosphere.

"Nah, it's fine. I'll be back in a few."

There was the silence again. The nice and quiet he so desperately needed. Sometimes it was too loud in both his mind and the tower where it seemed everyone was worried about him.

It had only been a week since Aunt May passed. The Avengers shared their concern when Peter refused to talk to anyone about the incident. He told them he'd talk in his own time. Maybe one day, just not now. He hadn't broken down yet, hadn't shed a tear except for the nightmares, and he planned on keeping it that way.

"Stay strong, Peter," He told himself.

He had to.

He would head back in a bit. As soon as the small hand on his Iron man watch turned to the 6. He quickly tucked it away under his suit sleeve.

There was a chill suddenly, nothing to do with the wind, but the constant nagging of the Spidey sense he had somehow been able to ignore. It grew louder than was necessary and he immediately jumped to his feet- keeping himself balanced atop the metal cranes.

Then there was a voice. A single laugh, echoing and bouncing along the silent buildings of New York city.

He waited once more as the laughter died down. Turns out he still wasn't high enough for his enhanced abilities not to pick up on the sounds in the alley below.

"Great." He muttered to himself. "Apparently every criminal in New York has a calendar that let's them know when the most inconvenient time for me is. Which is about now." He scratched his chin, taking a moment to think. "And about any other day too, actually. Oh well."

He scaled down the side of the crane and back down to the building several feet below, talking to himself the entire way.

"I guess they don't call me their friendly neighborhood Spiderman for nothing."

From where he was and what he could see, four men were standing around another. The fifth man was small, cowering with his back against the wall and mumbling insignificant nothings. He was being held at gunpoint. All four holding the same Beretta m9 pistol.

Spiderman whistled softly. The guy must be in for some big cash if that was their response. He'd have to wait for their guard to be put down, one kept looking around as if expecting something to leap out at them. Pretty ironic.

The same voice from earlier started speaking again, he was the largest and probably the one to give the most trouble of the group.

"You need to give us what we asked for, pal. It'll get ugly if you don't."

"Okay." Peter knew if he didn't intervene soon, there was going to be a mess to clean up when everything was over. And in all honesty, he didn't really care in the least bit what their reasons for going after the guy were. He jumped down from the building, landing heavily beside the men in the alley.

"Hey!"

Getting their attention, they turned to face him looking in the least bit happy to see the red and blue clad hero. None spoke, so Spiderman accepted it as his cue to continue.

"I don't know what's going on here, but you goons have no business with that man." He pointed at the one still cowering against the bricked wall. "Either way, come on. Have at me. I'm curious to see how an arachnid will do against a couple bird brains."

The alley gushed with light from a passing car. From that, Peter didn't see defeat running along their faces, but what looked to be uncontrolled rage in each. They glared at him menacingly. Not like he hadn't seen it before, but something felt different.

Of the four, a taller, lankier version of the rest, brown hair cut short, smirked. "The spider finally appears."

"In the flesh, toothpick."

Nicknames, start giving nicknames.

Toothpick frowned immediately, his gaze turning to the others around him as if asking an unheard question.

The largest of the group nodded once and flicked his eyes to stare at the vigilante, all the while keeping the gun still cocked at the smaller man.

"We were told about you."

Spiderman shrugged. "Everyone knows about me, Dumbo. I'm freakin' Spiderman, dude."

"We were told about you," Dumbo continued without acknowledging the hero's words, "From some people who happen to have enough brains not to trust you. We don't care what it is that you're doing here, we just want you gone. For good."

"Ah." Peter quirked an eyebrow underneath his mask. "Well, my retirement check hasn't cashed in yet so I guess I gotta keep doing my job. First on the list is you guys, bucko."

They still hadn't moved. Not a foot, not even a flinch. Their gazes stood fierce while they kept quiet. The only sound in the alley now was the sniveling of the cornered man whom continued to hold both hands up in defense. Peter wasn't one for waiting and here was a clock with hands that decidedly stopped ticking away.

"Whatever, fella. Let's do this."

It was almost a cue, a curtain calling with the stage director filing the actors in line. They had all moved at once, sending Peter's Spidey sense haywire. From every side he was surrounded, this time guns pointed his way. Thankfully the smaller man took advantage of the sudden rush of action and ran off from the scene, his voice following him on the way out.

"Okay..." Peter murmured.

This looked bad. Kind of. He was Spiderman, after all.

Dumbo pushed the pistol to his head suddenly, knocking him slightly against the temple. "So, Spiderman, we're not here to talk."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Peter smiled. "I'm like the merc with the mouth, but family friendly. You've heard of him right, tough guy? I can talk all day. We had a contest once-"

"Oh, shut it, you punk!" One of the smaller men, a twin supposedly to the last of the four, pushed himself closer as if trying to get into the action. "If we kill Spiderman, we'll be known among thousands as the one who finally put you where you belong, you freak."

"Whoa, slow your roll. Lemme guess, you're a Leo, right?"

They ignored his snark comment, deciding to attack all at once. The first to move was Dumbo, his finger sliding against the trigger. Peter leaned back, knocking himself into one of the twins behind him, narrowly missing the bullet meant for him that quickly found a target in the final twin's shoulder. Dumb and Dumber.

Dumb flung himself away from the action, grasping at his bleeding arm.

"One down and out of commission. Three to go." Peter blocked a punch to the ribs and webbed a kick to the ground. "You guys should really keep the safety on those guns. You might accidentally hurt one of your own."

Dumbo went for a second assault, cocking the gun once more and aiming for Spiderman.

"That's getting old." He flipped out of the circle of men, returning with full force to knock the backs turned to him off their feet.

Dumber was still fighting to get the webbing off his foot. Spiderman finished him off, shooting extra strength webbing at the man, sticking him to the brick wall behind him.

"That's two," he called out. "Come on guys, I thought you were trying to kill me." Not that he was egging them on per say, but it was part of his character. These guys were pathetic if their main goal was to end the vigilante tonight for good.

The largest of the group got to his feet again, shoving Toothpick back up in irritation.

"Looks like Dumbo gets it."

The man lunged forward, fists pulled back and ready for an all out attack. His eyes screamed murder, something Peter wished his mask lenses could've blurred out. They were actually crazy scary once you got within a good foot of them.

In a single moment of action, Spiderman leaped upwards, landing easily on the highest part of a nearby wall. The man who had gone after him with fists raised stopped in confusion after realizing his target had run off.

"Up here, big guy," Peter called out.

The man turned to look up and was instantly assaulted by a blast of thick webbing wrapping his limbs tightly to his torso.

"Got you, Dumbo." Peter heaved a breath, glancing down at the three men currently unable to move. One in pain, still clutching the bleeding shoulder and the other two certainly not going anywhere. There was one more. He peered around in search for the taller man; he was nowhere to be found. However, the shadows were heavy and he could be anywhere really. He shot out a single web, sticking to a trash bin in the distance in hopes of getting the last one's attention.

Nothing.

Peter tried again. This time sitting a moment to plan his next move. With a jolt and all at once, he sprung from the shadows while simultaneously shooting thin webbing in every direction possible. He was in plain sight then with the lights from nearby streetlamps reflecting off his suit. He heaved himself upwards and off the ground- stretching the webs tight- before gripping the next wall beside him.

He waited.

In the next moment, it seemed one shadow grew a bit more. Toothpick had moved again and a single thread of the almost invisible webbing vibrated from the start to the end right in Spiderman's hand.

'There you are.'

As quick as he could, Peter shot webbing right at the corner, triumphantly hearing a grunt and the plump of limbs as they hit the concrete.

"Four down."

He pulled the final man out into plain sight and was acutely aware of the glare he was being given. The man's arms pulled against the webs in an attempt to escape.

"Don't bother trying to get out of those. They're my own brand of sturdy material. Not even Hulk can get out of them."

That was the last of them. Now all he needed to do was wrap up the other guy and leave them for the cops to find.

Dumb was still bleeding from the shoulder where the bullet had gone, but Peter couldn't care less. It'd be fine. He concentrated on aiming at the man instead.

What he failed to notice however was that the man was no longer holding his arm, but had a gun pointed straight at him. He only noticed this when his Spidey sense hummed just as the bullet shot from the pistol and headed straight for him.

He pulled himself off of that wall, then, shooting webbing at the weapon and dragging it out of the guy's hand. When his Spidey sense went off a second time, there was no time to move seeing as he was in midair; both hands a bit occupied. It really was his own stupidity that caused it.

A single bullet came racing at him- he tried to swerve from it's path but only hindered it's main target, his chest. It hit him squarely in the abdomen, blood immediately oozing from the area.


	2. Chapter 2

Dumbo had managed to work a single hand out of the webbing and that was all it took to get hold of his pistol once more.

Peter immediately tumbled, his body landing with full force against the building wall to his right before finally crashing to the concrete below. His entire body screamed in agony, the bullet being pushed further into his body and his limbs jutting out to protect his face on instinct only to have his wrist crushed beneath his weight. He held in a yell, but couldn't help the grunt of pain that escaped him.

Dumbo kept firing in the background. The sound leaving a constant ringing in Peter's ears as they ricocheted off the metal trash bins. At least he had fallen where the gun couldn't reach him.

'Stupid.' He berated himself. 'You should've made sure none of them had their guns and the webs were tighter instead of showing off.'

Unsteadily, he pushed himself up, using the trash bin beside him as a leverage. One hand held firmly against the bleeding mess.

He heaved a breath, closing his eyes tightly to think of what his next move should be. His right wrist was badly sprained, it seemed. The area around it already becoming swollen and turning red hot with pain. The web-shooter on it spluttered- having also been damaged.

The sounds of gunshot in the background had at least died down, hopefully signifying the bullets had run out as well.

Peter's movements slowed to a crawl, trying his best to get back to the guys and at least string them up before taking care of himself. He used his good web-shooter, stealing the man's pistol and tossing it aside. He quickly shot more webbing at the men, making sure they were rightly secured this time and becoming painfully aware of how much his vision began to blur. The world tilted on its axis and he struggled to catch himself on the dirty bin once more.

Steadying himself for what he knew would be especially tough, he leaned his back against the trash and removed his hand from the wound. It was bleeding sluggishly now, so he took that as a good sign. The bullet hadn't gone cleanly through, he was lucky not to be bleeding to death then, but now the trouble of removing it was at hand. He couldn't leave it in their knowing full well what it could end up puncturing.

Stuck in his mental assessment, he failed to notice he was in plain sight of the men he'd only currently been fighting with. And they were staring at him with the widest sets of grins he'd ever seen.

Stopping what he was doing, he turned to glare at the closest one which just so happened to be Toothpick. He made sure to keep his tone strong and steady when he spoke.

"What's your deal, funny guy?" Unsuccessfully, his voice gave a slight waver.

The man chuckled in response. As he did so, however, it seemed to set off all the rest who followed after him by filling the alley with laughter just then.

"Great." He mumbled, annoyed. The bad guys were laughing at him now. Just another day in the life of Spiderman.

"Just sit tight," he told the men, all the while ignoring their outbursts of angry words...that not even Deadpool would allow around him.

"You're still a kid," He remembered the merc say on more than one occasion.

Yeah, a kid with a bullet wound that he was covering up with wads of webbing. Red suits really did cover up blood stains.

Scaling up the building was a lot more difficult than he'd expected. His hands quaked with the pressure he put on them to pull his weight upwards and his vision was in a continuous blur. By the time he got to the top, he was so exhausted that when he tried to stand back up, his feet fell backwards and he nearly came toppling back down. He heaved a sigh until the sound of a shattering cell phone rudely interrupted him.

It was his civilian phone, Peter Parker's, that had fallen down out of who knows what pocket he had and exploded into a million pieces once it made contact with the floor. Ten stories up and into another alley, startling a homeless women sleeping there in the process. He'd have to ask Ned for his phone number again. Peter would've felt bad, except there was no room to when all he could think about was getting himself to a medical bay. Or at least someplace with a pair of tweezers, disinfectant, needle and thread, and quite hopefully a batch of gauze.

STARK towers it was then.

First order of business was phoning the cops. There were a couple guys that still needed justice to be served. Taking out his 'Spiderman' phone, he quickly dialed the police and told them the news. They said they'd be there in a few minutes.

He hung up on the police and scrolled through his phone contacts; briefly glimpsing the names Jonny Storm and Miles Morales before landing on Tony Stark. He hadn't pressed it yet, his finger hovering over the call button. Knowing the billionaire, he was probably still drunk and would have to come pick him up with a piercing migraine. Migraine Tony was never a good Tony.

He dialed the number. It began to ring and in the meantime Peter took a moment to get his bearings straight.

When he did get picked up, he knew he wouldn't be able to explain much to Tony. He was going to be so grounded once they got back to the tower. The phone continued to ring and he sighed again.

As he waited, he pulled his injured arm closer to his chest. He hoped to whoever was listening that none of the bones had broken. Peter's healing factor was fast, but it still took a while to reset bones. Tony would really kill him now. On top of a gunshot wound, he'd also damaged his arm. Great job, Spiderman.

The phone rattled and picked up. Almost immediately, a drowsy voice answered the call.

"Hello..." Tony yawned.

Peter cleared his throat, struggling to sound at least a bit normal. The most normal he could with a bullet lodged in the stomach. "Hey, Tony, uh... it's Peter."

"Kid, caller ID." The billionaire sounded more awake suddenly. "Wait, why are you calling me? Peter, where the hell are you?"

Peter didn't answer, but was distinctly aware that Tony had rushed out of his bed and was now running across the halls of STARK towers. A door was heard banging against a wall.

"Peter, you're not in your room." He sounded exasperated. That was a hard thing to get him to sound like.

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Well, where are you?" His voice was growing agitated. "So help me if you swung out of this bedroom for some vigilante business without our explicit permission."

Peter gulped. "Actually..."

"Goddammit, Peter. You're grounded."

And there it was. Now it wasn't Tony Stark, but the stern Anthony Stark talking. Surprisingly, that side of him really did exist. No one knew its wrath except for Peter. And maybe Steve a handful of times. Jesus, what would Steve say. Hopefully Tony could keep the situation undercover. He wouldn't.

He'd try his luck, though. 

"Tony, please, pretty please don't tell Steve." 

The voice on the other end was silent for a moment. There was rattling and then suddenly a heavy sigh.

"Kiddo, I'm right here." Steve just had to be standing there didn't he. Tony most likely woke him up in what little time he'd realized Peter had been gone.

'haha, great.' 

"So," he tried his luck, "do you think you can pick me up?"

Again, Tony's voice rose. "Why? Peter, what happened?"

"Peter, are you hurt?" Steve asked calmly.

"Yeah, about that. What would happen if I told you I got shot?" 

He waited nervously. The sounds on the line had gone dead silent. Just to make sure, he checked to see whether the call was still ongoing. It was....

And then, in unison, "You're grounded!"

'Oh, there it was. The sounds of angry superheroes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for the wait, seems that life got a hold of me and caught me off guard.  
> I extended the fanfic to an extra chapter since I really wanted to get this one up.
> 
> Thank you for all the encouraging reviews and hope you enjoyed!


	3. Red, blue, and black all over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait, I had lots of things to worry about, but finally got around to finishing this.  
> Here it is! Thanks for sticking around

It was a while before Peter "officially" came to. First, it started off as blinking in and out of awareness before falling back to sleep.

Not only was the previous night a complete blur, but Peter could barely remember how he'd gotten back to the tower. If he didn't know any better, he would bet he did it himself and the Superdads were still asleep and completely unaware of last night's escapade.

No such luck, however. Peter quickly noticed the curtains were drawn, but he could tell by the light filtering through the slits that it was still night out.

Wait, still? Or maybe he was out a lot longer than he thought. It'd happened before.

He struggled to get up. Not only did his abdomen burn horribly, but he felt exhausted with just the little effort it took to stand on his own. His legs shook and wobbled yet he was still capable of standing steadily- even if his hands did reach out precariously to grab at the closest thing to him which just so happened to be a knee. Not his own knee, but the knee of none other than a sleeping Iron man.

Well, not sleeping anymore.

Peter couldn't help but groan. The one guy he didn't want to see today, the dude he made so mad at him last night, was here, waking up with him at the crack of dawn. Possibly. And he was most likely going to yell at him again, too.

Ah, now the memories were coming back.

Peter retrieved his hand and sat heavily back down on the bed again.

"H-hey," Peter fumbled out.

Might as well get the lecture over and done with.

He waited patiently for the billionaire to respond; or as patient as he could with the nagging feeling of disappointment settling in the room.

Hot and heavy disappointment.

Tony pushed himself from the wooden chair in the room, cracking his neck and shoulders in the process. He still had yet to stare at Peter or acknowledge his presence at all, really.

Only then did Peter become aware of the music playing airily in the background. It was Iron man's well known "I'm working on new suits and I need to think. Get out of the f*cking lab, Barton, before I taser you" playlist.

He couldn't help but let out a chuckle even as his sides cried out in agony. It was worth it considering this got Tony's attention.

"What are you laughing at, kid?" He asked with what appeared to be a faint, Thank God he's not dead sigh.

_My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies,_

_Fairytales of yesterday will grow but never die_

Peter smiled slightly. "I didn't think you listened to Queen."

"It's a classic. You know I'm into the classics."

"Right."

"Anyway, no stalling." Tony's face retained its stony features. "On to business." Here, he maneuvered himself so that he was exactly at the foot of the bed Peter sat on. "What the hell were you thinking, going out into the middle of the night? With your suit, no less, only to get shot in the process. You better thank your morning star that you have a healing factor."

"Yeah, and I'm fine now, aren't I?" Stupid. Stupid Peter. Couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Excuse me?" And Tony Stark looked shocked for a moment. "You're only fine because you just so happened to grow a few cells in that brain of yours and actually call for help. We picked you up, you were unconscious **and bleeding to death**."

And Steve walked in halfway through 'death'. His hands had climbed their way up to his hips in a scolding manner, but he stood where he was at the doorway. His face stoic and waiting for a supposed response from Peter.

Peter kept his lips tightly shut, afraid he'd say something he'd regret again. He was used to being yelled at so it was fine, Aunt May happened to do it a lot. His already depressed mood just had to get worse. "I-I'm sorry." he finally said, not knowing how else to respond. "I know, it was really stupid. I'm... really sorry, Tony, believe me it won't happen again."

"It better not, kid." Tony closed his eyes for a second to think. "But, why did you do it?"

Caught off guard, Peter stupidly mumbled out a "what".

Steve stepped fully into the room, thankfully shutting the door behind him. Peter didn't need anymore ammunition for the rest of the compound residents to use against him. Especially Thor and Clint.

"Why did you take the suit out tonight of all nights? We specifically made it clear that there would be no late night patrolling. And the one night there is, this happens."

Steve interjects, his hands crossing over his chest now. "Peter, we only want to help."

"So why did you go against the one rule-"

" **I had a nightmare, okay?!"**

The room grew silent a moment.

Peter rubbed frantically at his eyes to keep the tingling sensation away. He didn't need this right now.

"What nightmare?" Tony asked.

"Tony."

"No, whatever. It's fine." The teen plucked nervously at a loose string in his blanket. "It was May, okay. I'm not gonna divulge my whole dream to you, alright? I just won't."

"That's fine."

"But, Pete," Tony said, "you need to understand that there are people you can go to. Everyone is more than happy to-"

Steve hummed in the negative.

"-mostly everyone would sacrifice their beauty rest if it meant helping you out, kid. You keep going as you are, you're gonna end up like me. Not a billionaire genius, but a raging alcoholic to deal with his problems. I would drink my ability to move away from night terrors. Not anymore, I promise you."

"Only in the hours of the day, now. So, 18 hours."

"Shut it, Ms. America. When did you become Clint all of a sudden?"

And Peter laughed. He couldn't help himself. But the tension continued to linger in the air.

"You could have gone to someone if it was that bad," Tony insisted.

Peter scoffed, humor long forgotten. "Yeah, who would that be? I mean, my room's next to Vision. That guy phases through freakin' walls, I think he's invaded enough of my privacy."

Steve gave him a look that he quickly decided to ignore. Sure, he was pretty melo, but once you got him riled up it was pretty hard to avoid.

Tony chuckled heartily, though his eyes still expressed his discomfort with the situation. "There's literally loads more people you could've gone to. Maybe even the God of Thunder could've done something."

"But the thing is," Steve continued; his arms quite obviously still crossed, "there are other obvious solutions. I would be more than willing to help, Peter. It really isn't a bother."

"If it ever happens again, remember, my door's always open for you, kid." Tony smiled and lightly patted Peter's back. "At least you didn't take out the IronSpider suit. Who knows what you might've done to it."

The bit of humor sure was welcomed.

"Of course, not," Peter responded, "That thing's under maximum security. There's no way I would've been able to snatch it without FRIDAY alerting the entire compound."

"Good work, FRIDAY."

The AI responded with a punctual "You're welcome, sir."

"Anyway," Tony continued. I've got paperwork to get done, sadly. You know where my room is."

 

 

That night, a week after the incident, he did have a nightmare. The same one as always. He clambered out of bed and with a solemn look at the city lights glaring past his window, he strode towards his bedroom door. The hallway was empty as it should be.

He found the door along the walls, and tapping his foot nervously, he knocked.


End file.
